Master of Strategies
by NeoCentralion
Summary: The life of Fertis Doxelian-and his fight against the Galactic Empire.
1. Middle of Nowhere

It was empty in space. Deafeningly, blindingly empty. Stellar phenomena expelled a vast variety of wave-particles, while minute chunks of iron ore traveled through the vacuum at speeds averaging 10,000-20,000 km an hour. The average being could only survive 30 seconds of time without suitable protection, 10 seconds without permanent damage. In another dimension, but at the same place, hyperspace…did whatever hyperspace does, while corresponding to infinitely many points in real time. This pleasant reality was, however, suddenly distorted. Space, pressured from 10 to the 32 of points on a plane, gave. Splitting along a line, hyperspace replaced realspace for around 3.5 seconds, forming a pair of perfectly manicured lips. These lips blew a kiss, from which a large piece of metallic spittle appeared. Disappearing a moment later, this apparition left behind only a massive wave of palutrons, which dissipated into the galaxy as they tunneled through realspace into a black hole, gossiping to each other about how barbaric realspace was, and why would anyone want to live here, anyway? Ignoring the palutrons, the glob of metallic spittle hung in space, perfectly motionless. While the palutrons were complainers, they certainly didn't intend for the alien inside to die if they could do anything about it.

The alien inside was currently suffering from confusion and a concussion. Going through hyperspace could be rough on a person, but going through hyperspace while a large crowd of british people all complaining that they could do it better than he could, and saying that he was doing it wrong, and protesting loudly over each other that the others were all imbeciles, and that the speakers were genius's. Fertis didn't know what to think. He didn't even know who or what British was. He did know that he never wanted to hear that particular accent or the phrase "I do say!" ever again. He would throttle the person who spoke in such a manner. Ears ringing, Fertis opened his eyes for the first time. The ship, if you could call it such, was in chaos. Lights blinked everywhere, except on the control panel. Components skittered here and there, trying to avoid explosive decompression, multisystem failure, _cascading_ multisystem failure, reaction mass decompression, crashing into the planet below, crashing into the sun, or re-entering hyperspace again. Dialogue between the engineers went something like this:

"Spanner, 23r, request immediately.

"Request reason for discharge (electrical)?"

"Request aid, fusebox cover!"

"Spanner, 23r, REQUEST IMMEDIATELY."

"Danger level estimated minimal-zzaaaaooowww!"

"Warning. Primary gyro system failed. Warning, primary gyro system failed."

"SPANNER 23r OR ALL UNITS CEASE TO FUNCTION IN 25.346E!"

"Spanner, 32r."

"Request aid, fusebox cover, immediately."

"Warning, gyro systems have failed. Activating secondary gyro systems. Request location of secondary gyro systems."

"Secondary gyro systems located at hyperspace point (Condensed data package)."

"Warning, personnel interface systems have failed. Request location of interface systems."

"Personnel interface systems at realspace point (Condensed data package)."

"Secondary gyro systems retrieved."

"Personnel interface systems retrieved. Probability of emergency repairs…ignore report."

"Warning. Fuel containment systems failing."

"REQUEST AID OPENING FUSEBOX."

"…executing fusebox aid action…executing…applying force. Fusebox accessed. Executing fusebox repair action."

"Burn calculated. Preparing for burn."

"QUERY? PREPARING FOR BURN?"

"Warning. Repair operations not sufficiently secured for burn action."

"Burn action initiated in 20 tefrs."

"SECURE ALL STATIONS! SECURE ALL STATIONS!"

"Warning. Station not secure."

"Warning. Station not secure."

"Warning. Station not secure."

"Warning. Station not secure."

"Warn-"

"Wait. Thruster burn? Cancel thruster burn-cancel! Begin task…retrieve general purpose painkillers. Begin task…medical diagnostics."

"Tasks acknowledged. Beginning medical diagnostics. Dispensing painkillers."

"Request information on disabling ship computer?"

"Request granted. Method of disabling executive computer functions is (condensed data package.) Method of disabling secondary computer functions is (condensed data package.) Method of disabling low-level computer functions is (condensed data package.)"

"Acknowledged. Request permission to disable computer executive functions?"

"Ermm…yeah. Permission granted to disable executive functions. Use the spanner method."

"Request clarification: spanner method?"

"Clarification…well…perform melee action with spanner on computer until it stops performing executive functions."

"ERROR! 'SPANNER METHOD' WILL CRITICALLY DAMAGE COMPUTER COMPOENTS!"

"I suppose that this unit is right…very well, I'll attend to it by administrator functions. Continue repair operations. Alert me if anything comes up." A sigh. "When will these painkillers kick in? Spraining a knee is very painful…"

And with this having been said, the _Engineer's Angel_ continued to chart and elliptical orbit, while Fertis Doxelian laid back and held a chillpack to his knee. With a sigh, he thought back to the events on Coruscant. That was where everything had started. That was why he was out here. Running from the empire. And his brother was supposed to be the one who got in trouble…


	2. Emergency Landing

Fertis had a pounding headache. Nonetheless, his problems did not disappear. The machines repaired what they could, and the computers found a way for the inevitable landing to be as painless as possible, but things were bad. The _Engineer's Angel_ was badly damaged, supplies were semi-low and he had a migraine that was…_pulsing._ Probably a damaged ear canal. No idea how he messed it up. But enough on his _aching_ head. Time to buckle yourself up, get ready for re-entry, not the calm slide through the planet's skin that spaceplanes offered, but a rough, bumpy, ballistic drop. (_!_) You were like a dental drill, going down fast and hard. Of course, the _Angel_ did have some modifications, to make this drill easier on the teeth. But it wasn't a sonic drill, by anyone's standards-the guidance system lacked the couth that would usually be demonstrated by any dentist. A few beeps, several seconds, and the _Engineer's Angel_ began entering the methane-filled atmosphere.

The flying wing was supposed to act like a thermeare in flight. However, it decided to act like a damaged paper airplane made from toilet paper, and promptly fell madly in love with the surface below. Suicidally hoping to bring composite nose into contact with iron-oxide ground, the lovesick starship was snatched away from its lover only by the attentions of an automated gyroscopic sensor, a screaming Metran, and a pack of panicking droids. Changing its wing shape slightly, the _Angel_ adjusted its flight pattern to a course almost exactly 45 degrees from its original flightpath. Engines flaring, the flying wing, now red with embarrassment over the foolishness of its love, flew a more stable course, and rocketed over a mountain range. The erratic flightpath continued for five minutes, until a component, hanging onto the destroyed sensor panel, spotted a slightly smoother valley and raised a minor demon and some imps worth of hell. The Components at the piloting console received the condensed data packet, and anticipated a release from purgatory. Punching holes where buttons had used to be and struggling with a half-dead control yoke, they turned what would normally be an emergency landing into a dignified crash. After slowing to stall speed, the _Engineer's Angel_ slid for a few hundred meters, only stopping when it impacted the far end of the valley wall. And after the crash, there was only silence.

Fertis had a pounding headache. Nonetheless, his problems did not disappear. He was stretched out on the floor of his narrow cabin, completely naked, with Components running over his stomach, checking for injuries. The _Angel_ was slightly better off than junk, and he had few supplies to change that situation. And finally, the _Angel's_ mediocre supplies of oxygen had been reduced significantly in the crash. He would need to find some way to steal oxygen from the surface of the planet, or even a battlecruiser's recycling system couldn't save him- in fact, it was best for all concerned if he spent the night in an environment suit. A Component chirped by his waist, began climbing towards his head-and stepped on a particularly sensitive area. The Metran writhed on the floor for a good two minutes before regaining enough control over his musculature to throw the Component out the airlock. After crawling to the one working console, Fertis glared down at the machines working outside and began giving orders.

"Okay…basic opener. Low resource start, low tech start…interesting mod, need to acquire res. Machines out to go 1 supply, 1 power, power research. Brb, acquiring more res." The door hissed shut, and the Metran was gone. A few minutes later, Fertis stepped off of the ship. No longer in the casual clothes of his previous life, he was now armored, a soldier among his taskforce of droids. Boost armor from the now-defunct Metran Defense Force covered his form, supplying required oxygen and boosting both strength and speed. A crouch, a leap-and he was among the front lines of his machines, offering orders and encouragement. Jogging into the great unknown, Fertis began looking around, searching for anything that could be used as resources for his pathetic operation. Proving a sad lack of social life, Fertis instinctively followed the search pattern he ordered most scouting units to follow and began looking for…well…anything. A large rock was his first catch of the day.

The rock was labeled 'raw ore-75 ore'. Fertis sighed and felt embarrassed. Again he looked around, half-hoping that someone would interrupt him and inquire into his business, for this was one of his secret dreams-to live a RTS game. A snap of his two middle digits and a squad of Components appeared, steel servants awaiting orders from a muddy mind. Several minutes of fiddling with the minds of his peons later, a squad of components grabbed the rock and headed back to a central processing station. Meanwhile, a Hero Unit was racing across the open ground, the effects of Friendly Territory, Exoskeletal Assist, and Natural Stim Paks boosting his speed towards near-hack levels. Following omnipresent green directional lines, the Hero Unit scoured the endless 'map', deviating from its course only to drop off another group of Components at a spotted bonus. Eagerly it sought it's prizes, running over otherwise impassable terrain that other units would have avoided or been unable to cross. However, something, somewhere in the back of it's mind made it pause suddenly.

"What am I doing?" The Hero Unit looked around. "Why am I-Oh crap…heh. Crap. Did I really get this far?" A longer breath than usual. "Wow. I guess I'm not as out of practice as I should be." The Metran Hero Unit threw a punch. "The armor helps…but I'm definitely getting faster." The Metran Hero Unit 'Fertis Doxelian' abruptly sneezed, then called up his HUD. Green dots abounded, connecting lines filled the space between them, and automated monitoring stations covered an area roughly 50km in size. Shaking his head, the hero unit jogged back to the base, marveling at what he had created…under his own influence. Gaming is a powerful drug.

Fertis stretched out on a the ground. His legs ached, his chest ached, and he wanted to sleep. The Metran still had one more duty, however-the he needed to update his engineering log. Wincing at the sore muscles in his left forelimb, Fertis clamped the camera to the largest rock-which was miniature (only 25 supplies), checked the lock, and leaned forward. Adjusting his posture slightly, Fertis smoothed his fur, snapped at the camera, and began recording.

"This is Fertis. Engineering log recording, have finally fixed timestamp error, in bad state. Laid solid ground and set out pathways. Signing off now because I'm nearly unconscious. Nothing more." And with that, the only organic mind on the planet blacked out. The electronic minds gradually stuttered and shut down, running low on nutrients. This would be rectified in future revisions-which would in turn be outperformed by still later version. Fertis would record this progress-although it wouldn't the best recording that he'd made.


	3. Distress Call

Rotation 25,920,257; Day 45. What a mess. What a trencharch-taken mess. The _Angel _is scrap, the machines are a wreck, and I'm sleeping on the ground in an environment suit. This situation needs to be fixed, fast. And this is what my engineering degree, for which I paid 600,000 credits, is supposedly for. Muska, this day will be rough.

Rotation 25,920,257; Day 46. The situation has improved, but only slightly. I have power, an environment dome, and working machines. Problems, however, remain. I have only 14 working machines, a limited supply of oxygen, and limited supplies. Everything, including my will to continue, is limited. I need more time, and I need more food. Things are not looking good.

Rotation 25,920,257; Day 47. Things get better, but only slightly. Two automated prefab assemblers have been activated, and a refinery has been aiding my machines' efforts to strip mine the area. Refined ore piles up, and I have nowhere to put it. Whenever a problem is solved, more appear. At least I have some idea of how to get out of this mess…

Rotation 25,920,257; Day 48. I've got a chance! Just a small chance, but if things go my way…Anyway, storage for my ore is now complete. And I've proved I _earned_ that damn engineering degree-by adding smelters and machine shops to those automated prefab assemblers! On top of that, a more advanced version of the refinery is under construction, which can produce oxygen,(survival reasons) methane, (superior power source), and…nutrients for a greenhouse. I'm not sure what else it can do, but that's not important now. What's important is the oxygen and the greenhouse I can get built tomorrow. Whatever. I need to get some sleep if I want to get anything done tomorrow.

Rotation 25,920,257; Day 49. Success! This Metran is NOT going quietly into the night! Anyway, oxygen in ensured, the greenhouse is on it's way, and my next challenge is to find some way to produce integrated circuitry of some sort. Forget about cubes or R-tubes-I'll be more than happy with a simple slab of silicon. I only have a vague idea how it would work, but the 'factory' would be very expensive to assemble, not to mention supply. From initial simulations, it will require a steady stream of supplies even when idle! Oh well. This is the life of an engineer: eat, sleep, design, test, redesign. Why did I want to live this life?

Rotation 25,920,257; Day 50. My design is complete…mostly. I still need to refine things as they come up, but this initial design is looking extremely promising. So far, the foundation has been laid, and not much else. I did get a surplus of power though.

Rotation 25,920,257; Day 51: That damn building…well, it gave me a LOT of trouble, but I got it finished. The thing is puking out chips, and I need chips. Maybe I can slot that thing into my main factory design. Oh well. Tired. More tomorrow.

Rotation 25,920,257; Day 52: I. Slotted. That. Thing. Into. The. Main. Factory. SYSTEM! I! PROVED! I! PASSED! MASS! MULTI-UNIT! COMMUNICATION! SCREW PROFESSOR BAGHERTBAUM! IN THE ASS! WITH A CACTUS! Tired. More tomorrow-possibly power savers. I need some way to generate more power-MORE POWER, TILLY, MORE POWER! (Thud.) (Recording ending due to inactivity.)

Rotation 25,920,257; Day 53: So, I got more power. So, I have a more advanced factory. So, I need more network capacity. I HAVE raw materials and methods of refining them-now I need something that can work with them. The advanced factories I've got out will be put to immediate use working on that-I've had to shut down pretty much everything else trying to keep the basics going. And frankly, this is stupid. So much good this degree did me-I can't even plan ahead to save my own work!

Rotation 25,920,257; Day 54: This massive-thing is almost complete. With it, I can bring the rest of my 'base' online again without destroying every single router I have-and I'm already working around the central point problem. The addition of miniature router systems to create ad-hoc communications networks whenever needed should solve this problem-and allow me to use the router for what it is supposed to be used for-a communications system. As soon as this monster is complete, I want to try something-nothing too complicated, just a layered efficiency AI nested within the comms network. I'm not a programmer, but I've got the project Telissar gave me-before it became her final. That thing might be useful.

Rotation 25,920,257; Day 55: The efficiency program just been installed. I'm already drawing up plans for an alert subroutine with an organizational base to provide automated alerts when pre-programmed conditions occur. Maybe I can improve on the original efficiency program as well-or put up a communications subsection-or a detection array! Decisions, decisions-and I might stay for a while-no, no, that's stupid. I NEED to get out of here, I NEED to see my family again. This is pure creation, sure, but I NEED to see my mom-muska, I miss her. How I miss her. Enough now. Sleep.

Rotation 25,920,257; Day 56: Efficiency program has paid off! Output on power and resources has jumped by 200%. In addition to that improvement, my design 'network' will now be able to bring plans up for refinement much quicker-and they won't make many of the same mistakes-at least not repeatedly. Even better, the program will continue to refine itself, so that it can do a better job-it might even be able to go hit industrial grade! Telissar would be happy, that's for certain. I wonder what'd she think of this whole affair. Muska, I miss my friends. Whatever. Back to work, Fertis, you're on assignment!

Rotation 25,920,257; Day 57: Efficiency program has improved itself, just along the lines that Telissar predicted, and my networks' designs for a communications system/RADAR system are nearly complete. In addition, the program is going over my designs yet again-I think I'll have a whole new template to work from! Telissar would be very, very happy. And so would Montroth-it's his comms array I'm putting up right now! Hopefully, I'll get to tell him soon…

Rotation 25,920,257; Day 58: Communications array is online, range-the system I'm in. At least according to stats, anyway. Might be able to boost a single transmission if I really push it. I'm putting the thing in the building I'm using to house the RADAR-I've started the RADAR! Anyway, I feel a big bunch of capacitors might do the trick for a burst push. Might be enough to grab the attention of passers-by. Anyway, sleep, then RADAR.

Rotation 25,920,257; Day 59: Initial building-'Command Post' is now in the process of assembly, project 9: Enhanced Building Palate: complete, project 11: Enhanced Production Interface: complete-tevens, we're tracking now! Anyway, I've poked everything that has to do with command, efficiency, or communications into the RADAR housing-pretty much everything else gets it's own unique casing as well. So far, casings include: Mine casing, life support casing (my little habitat dome), storage casing, power supply casing, engineering casing (not completed, but on the drawing board!), assembly casing, and the command casing, which is what I am working on now! Soon I'll have a RADAR up, and that can tell me when to send the distress signal, so I won't waste my opening –the capacitors only have one shot, I'm afraid. Oh well. Tired. Calling home soon!

Rotation 25,920,257; Day 60: RADAR's up! Engineering station on it's way! Efficiency program is-gimme a second (muffled noise) saying I have to get something in space to get out a good signal. Muska. MUSKA TAKE PHYSICS WITH A RUSTY FOLDING CHAIR! I just wanna go home…

Rotation 25,920,257; Day 61: Engineering station online, efficiency program installed in shining new server in the Command Post-which I now live in-and my new Design Network is working on a Satellite Production Facility-and I do not know how I will get these things into orbit. So far, I'm leaning towards a mass driver-boosters using methane-oxygen don't work well in a methane atmosphere-and the mass driver is reuseable-screw it, I'm going to build a mass driver! That'll take some time, though-unless I go coil. Can I build superconductors? No. Can I build nanomachines-not without two year's worth of work. Coils it is!

Rotation 25,920,257; Day 62: Satellite Production Facility is on the way, mass driver is under design, not much to report. Satellite design-is on hold until a new drill system can get certain elements and the new factories can produce certain high-stress parts, it's just a waiting from here.

Rotation 25,920,257; Day 63: More waiting. I've got a cold. Started an exercise routine, of sorts-getting back into shape for Rapid Transition work.

Rotation 25,920,257; Day 64: Massive driver design complete, SPF is nearly finished, supplies have started arriving for satellite production. I can wall run once again. More waiting.

Rotation 25,920,257; Day 65: Massive driver going up, SPF is finished, and I'm working with some satellite designs-standard template constructs. So far, nothing else. Getting stronger, though.

Rotation 25,920,257; Day 66: Mass driver three-fourths complete, a number of satellites are under construction-not much other news. Still getting stronger.

Rotation 25,920,257; Day 67: Mass driver is undergoing final checks, satellites ready, will probably launch the first cluster tomorrow. I can now haul myself up cliffs with lots of effort.

Rotation 25,920,257; Day 68: The entire cluster was launched-and then got destroyed by some sort of radiation pulse and minishots. I need new armor, new satellites, new coils for the mass driver-new everything.

Rotation 25,920,257; Day 69: New everything on it's way. Don't want to record much. I'm not in the mood too. Managed a one-handed push up, though.

Rotation 25,920,257; Day 70: New everything has been launched. Everything is also fine-and took the heat. Good going, Fertis. Still not in the mood to talk, since it's all waiting now.

Rotation 25,920,257; Day 70-5/27 of a rotation: Fertis here, ship's just showed up. I sent the call, they're swinging around. Seem to be moving in slowly-almost if their engines are heavily damaged-but damn, I'm finally gonna get off this rock!


	4. Rescue of Convenience

The ship was extremely heavily damaged. Bent, dented, and ripped apart, the main engines seemed to have been eaten and excreted by a Zillo Beast, and the shielding systems had been vaporized by the sheer amount of energy absorbed. Compared to this, the rest of the ship had only been beat up by an Elder God. Progressing slowly through space, the ship headed on towards the planet that emitted an steady electronic meep, declaring it's request for a rescue. After passing the system's first three asteroid crescents, it began it's own transmission: a sonorous pulse that pompously declared it's intent to emergency landing. On the surface of the so-far un-named planet, Fertis Doxelian screamed in rage. No one cared.

The ship entered the atmosphere, vaporized methane providing a distinct trail, sliding through the atmosphere's methane-laced gullet. Very rarely, it encountered a virus: a small drone, sent out by the machines to scout the area. The ship landed on a small, half-finished dirt strip, having guessed it's way down, finished the strip, and nearly ran over the strip's owner, who was waiting outside in his bio-suit. He ended up in a dirt pile, with little the machines clambering around him. The ship's eight occupants were thrown forward, and ended up in various states of disarray. Fertis got up, bristling with righteous indignation. The occupants recovered themselves, having done this around 57 times.

Dusting the dirt off his suit, Fertis stood and watched the hulk. It resembled a beached whale, scarred from battle with squids and rivals. The door fell off, and out shambled the crew: the first was a Dug, the second a Togrutan, the third a Mon Calamari, the fourth, fifth, and sixth were Bothans, and the last three were humans. They stared at each other for a few seconds, then the Dug came forward.

"You squawked for help?"

"Yes."

"Ah, damn, damn-" A Bothan interrupted.

"Watch it, Tarsh. He could be a liability."

"He's a Selonian. What can he do if we don't want him to talk."

"_Metran._"

"Comin' up blank."

"You guys?" The Selonian interrupted. "I've barely heard anything about you."

"Yes. I'm an engineer." Their eyes lit up.

"Wonderful. You get help Meela get this crate flyin' again, you can hitch a ride. Good news is that the hyperdrive is working, so it's only the engine blocks that you needa sort out. In addition to this, Torpol here" he pointed to the Selonian who had just spoken. "Wants your opinion on some things. Because, you know, we don't know _anything_ about you guys." Fertis knew a good deal when he saw one.

"Sounds fine….were do I sign?" A Bothan proffered a datapad.

"Just one question before I start?" The Metran was grinning now. "Who _are_ you people?"

"We're the Alliance to Restore the Republic. That's all you need to know."


End file.
